Married To The Cold-Hearted Billionaire

MARRIED TO THE COLD-HEARTED BILLIONAIRE

Chapter 1

_Everything you want is on the other side of fear._ A lone mansion stood gloriously in the heart of Birmingham city, unperturbed by the city's late-night bustle. In one of the many rooms of the mansion, a man treaded a mill. The one who controlled most of the business flow in Birmingham and the country at large pushed himself to the limit as his lean muscles bulged with each move he made. Daryl's gym was one of the biggest rooms in his mansion. It was well-equipped as expected of one of the most famous bachelors in the city but over-equipped for one person. Daryl kept moving on the treadmill, exerting more energy with each step as he sweated buckets. His muscles burned, running out of their share of oxygen but he was lost in thought seemingly unaware of his body's protest. His mind wandered here and there unable to focus. He couldn't make sense of the day's events. He was trying to catch onto one thing but caught onto another. It all boiled down to one memory of his. A memory he wanted nothing to do with anymore. It had scarred him for life. " Open this door right now! " A burly man shouted as he banged loudly on the door of a house. " Ma'am open the door while we're still being nice" Another voice added in a sickly sweet tone and the banging continued. Ten-year-old Daryl woke up in shock, his heart pounding, because of the ceaseless banging on their door. His room was devoid of any light and so were other parts of the house except a few. Daryl quietly stood from his bed and with his hands felt his way to the door of his room, where a dim bulb lit the corridor. " Mum?" he called out softly."Mum? Where are you?" He repeated while walking into the kitchen. There he saw his mother scouring through the drawers in a frenzied manner, her hands trembling and feet unsteady. She turned around and noticed his presence behind her. She put her finger on her lips and motioned him to keep silent. Daryl obeyed as fear began to claw at his heart. Simultaneously the banging on the door seized. His mother grabbed him and pulled him deeper into a corner of the kitchen with her palm tightly clamped over his mouth. The sound of metal hitting against metal was heard from a part of the house and slowly the sound drew closer and closer to them. The darkness of the kitchen only made matters worse. Daryl was scared out of his wits and for a brief moment he wondered if his mother was too. He gripped her clothes tightly and his body trembled from head to toe. The sound didn't stop, it kept drawing closer to them till suddenly it paused, and his mother whirled around really fast and shoved him into a compartment he didn't know existed in the house. It all happened so fast that he didn't notice when or how she opened the compartment, not to mention the door being a seemingly normal mirror beside a tall fridge in the kitchen. Shutting the door, his mother turned her back to him holding a strange weapon in her hands. She paused, " Don't be afraid dear. No one can see or hear you from there, you'll be safe. " The last part sounded more like she was trying to reassure herself than him. Little Daryl couldn't comprehend what was going on. He could see his mother's retreating figure through the glass and he heard every single word she said but they were still too vague for a ten-year-old. He didn't know what was going on but had a gut feeling it was nothing good. A crippling fear consumed him as he started knocking on the glass. "No! No! Mom!! Mom!!! Let me out, please! Don't go!" He cried out, but it seemed she could hear him as she walked away. The space inside the compartment was narrow and the glass resilient. He felt suffocated and hit the glass harder in desperation. The sound of metal against metal was heard again echoing through the corridors and his mother stepped out, shutting the kitchen door. _" Nooo!!! Mom please!!" His voice came out in shrill cries as he scraped his fingers against the rough edges of the glass, drawing blood with tears streaming down his face. For the first time in his life, Daryl felt dead.__ A sharp pain brought Daryl back to reality. He fell from the treadmill and toppled over. He gasped, struggling to breathe properly. He placed his hand on a low marble table to support his weight as he tried to stand up. Slowly and unsteadily he made his way to the bathroom in the gym. Leaning over the sink he stared at his image in the mirror and he could hear her voice in his head, "Dirty! You're as dirty as that mother of yours." He looked at the tap and had a strong urge to wash his hands and he didn't try to resist it. After washing up, he dressed leisurely in baggy grey trousers and a sweater. Hanging a short white towel over his neck, he stepped out to the balcony. Silently watching the city lights, the starless sky, and the gathering dark clouds, he felt a moment of peace. Whatever it was that nagged his mind he was going to find out in a few days. Till then, Daryl pushed his thoughts aside.After a while, it began to drizzle. It started as a light shower but the thick dark clouds betrayed its intention. A heavy downpour was on its way. In another part of the city, a girl raced against time and the incoming downpour as she rushed in and out of a nearby store, with her brown leather handbag over her head as a makeshift umbrella. She hurriedly walked toward the bus stop but before she could make it rain began to pour down heavily. She brought her bag down and protected it with her body instead as she stood at the bus stop, waiting for a bus along with the handful of other people there. Eventually, a bus came to a stop, and she struggled to get on the bus with people pushing and shoving each other aside to enter the bus before it got full. Chelsea sighed in relief. Her bag was soaked, and she was drenched and bruised from the shoves while struggling to get on the bus. It didn't help either that she ended up standing and holding onto one of the iron bars on the bus. The vehicle lurched and moved forward accelerating gradually. The rain got heavier with each passing minute. Chelsea could hear thunder rumbling in the distance. An elderly woman sitting by her side tapped her, " Miss? Are you related to Elena Willows?" It took Chelsea a while to reply, " What?" She said, amused. "No, I'm not. I look a lot like her, don't I?" "My word, you do. I..." Before she could complete her sentence the bus skidded and careened across several lanes of traffic, making everyone on the bus move unsteadily from side to side. After a while of chaos and screaming, the driver regained control of the wheel and everything was calm once again. The old lady put a hand on her chest, " Are you okay?" Chelsea asked in concern. " Of course I am! My bones aren't as old as they look y'know" She replied with a smile. Chelsea returned the smile, turning her attention to the window she heard a commotion in front. Someone was saying, "Driver! Move out of the way!!" and someone else added, " Are you a drunkard?! Turn f*ck*ng left !!"Then a bright light assaulted her eyes through the window with car horns honking and passengers in the bus shouting, cursing, calling on God. Chelsea's heart leaped, but before she could make a sound their vehicle got slammed from the side and spun off the highway and down the hill in a deadly summersault. Everything happened so fast and her last thoughts were, " Is this death?" Chelsea woke up to the beeping sound of a life support machine, with her head buzzing and her vision blurred but she could vaguely identify the place she was as a hospital. There was so much noise around her. She felt her consciousness slipping gradually and for the third time, she found herself embracing the darkness. Chelsea didn't know how long this process kept repeating or how much time she had spent in the hospital, but she couldn't care less about the latter. No one was coming anyway, not her father, mother, or sister, and Chelsea herself had absolutely no way to pay the hospital bills which left her with only one option. For the umpteenth time, Chelsea was awake. This time she couldn't see or hear the beeping of the life support machine instead, she was placed on a drip. She sluggishly pulled the syringe from her hand and made to stand up but suddenly felt light-headed and weak. She placed a hand on her forehead and took a deep breath, biting down on her lip hard she readied herself to stand up and slowly made her way to the door in the hospital gown. It was late at night and for some reason, the hospital staff in the building weren't moving about as Chelsea thought they ought to. Sticking to the shadows, tripping and falling a couple of times due to weakness, she finally made it to the ground floor. The entrance wasn't an option so she went for the nearby window and slowly scaled it. Chelsea made it out of the hospital thanks to the ambulance that arrived right on time. She was weak, and sore all over, her head kept buzzing and her throat was patched. She would have loved to remain in that hospital until she fully recovered but alas, not everyone was so privileged. If she stayed, she would have remained there for good since every one of her relatives either saw her as a burden or a threat. The latter made Chelsea chuckle, the idea of the likes of her being a threat to anyone was laughable. In the dead of night, a lone figure swayed from side to side on the streets like a broken doll. Chelsea felt lost, confused, and consumed by the crippling need to drink water. Almost immediately, she saw two or three men open the door to a house, and hurriedly walked across a lawn to stop get to them before they shut the door, all she would ask of them was water to quench her thirst. She got to the door but the men weren't there anymore. They had gone inside already and the entrance was opened halfway giving Chelsea a way to slip in. "Moron!! How could you leave it open?" came an angry bellow. The voice belonged to a man and she could hear someone else muttering something as she quickly hid from sight. It seemed one of the two was coming back toward Chelsea's hiding spot to lock the door they had left open. After he left, she stepped out of hiding and quickly searched for a kitchen or any other place water could be but found nothing except one empty room after another. She bit her lip to keep herself from crying there and then. She could no longer take it, the thirst was unbearable and her movements since she left the hospital only made the splitting headache worse. She stopped in front of a door, and with her back leaning on it she stood still, too tired and worn out to think clearly or move a muscle. Immediately, She heard footsteps coming her way and hurriedly entered the room behind her, closing the door as silently as she could. " I can't believe we accepted this job." one of the men said. " What? Why not? You scared of a pretty boy or something?" the other replied. " I ain't scared of no one man, but you know them don't you? These rich snakes." " Quit worrying 'bout sh*t and c'mon let's get outta here. Our job's done." with that Chelsea didn't hear their voices again. It seemed they left the house. She felt someone's presence behind her and her fingertips turned cold. Slowly she turned around, only to be pinned to the spot she stood by a taller shadow of a man. Unable to see the face of the strange clearly, she tried to push the door open and escape but it was locked. Chelsea tried harder, desperately shouting for help and hitting the door with what little strength she had left but it was all in vain. She felt his hot breath on her neck and made to push him away, instead, she was thrown like a light sack onto the bed she hadn't noticed was there. The rough impact made her yelp in pain with her voice now hoarse and barely audible. Her head throbbed but she ignored all of it and rolled onto the floor before the man could get on her, bruising her shoulder in the process. With amazing speed, the man dragged her by the leg toward himself, and she managed to get hold of a small vase and hit him over the head with it. The man groaned and moved back a little. From his voice, Chelsea could tell it was a young man that tormented her. She tried to stand up but couldn't get far before her body betrayed her and she fell to the bed devoid of any form of strength and her consciousness slowly slipping. She felt the man easily holding her hands up and having his way as silent tears streamed down her face before she blacked out completely.

MARRIED TO THE COLD-HEARTED BILLIONAIRE

Chapter 2

At the break of dawn, Chelsea woke up groggily, feeling sore all over. Her head still ached like she'd been hit over by a trailer, though she might have been considering she knew nothing of how what exactly caused the accident. She forced herself up and found no one else in the room. She hoped last night's event would turn out to be a delirious dream of hers due to her condition. She looked around the room, the broken vase, the blood from her shoulder injury, everything was the same as last night which further proved she wasn't delirious. A bitter feeling settled in her heart and her eyes stung. Holding back tears Chelsea pushed the feeling and thoughts aside, she had to get out of the house first. Steadily, she stood to her feet and made her way out of the room toward the house entrance. To her relief, the door wasn't locked. Moving from one dark alley to another there was only one thing on her mind, home. As much as it wouldn't have solved anything, she'd rather prefer the comfort of her small room apartment if anything was going to happen to her. A luxurious-looking car was parked by the roadside, a few steps away from the entrance into a rarely used alley. In the car, a handsome young man sat in the driver's seat with his elbow on the wheel and a bored expression as if waiting for someone or something. He had a well-defined jawline, dirty blonde hair, and pink-tinted lips, with his sunglasses conveniently sitting on his nose bridge giving him a cool aura overall. From the corner of his eye, Harl noticed something strange in his side mirror. A woman in a hospital gown that was almost unrecognizable, staggered into the alley and fell into a puddle of water. Harl frowned slightly, alighting from his car he slowly approached her. Up close, he could see what she looked like including her awful state. She had an oval face and light auburn hair albeit scattered and in a mess. "Harl?" A beautiful young lady called out as she approached from behind."I'm really sorry that..." He held up a hand motioning for her to stop talking."Her skin is really pale." He said referring to the unconscious young woman. "Hurry let's get her to the hospital, now!" In the Citel mansion, Daryl opened his eyes, temporarily confused. He stared directly at the ceiling laying on a soft comfortable bed. He looked around the room, for a while he couldn't recognize where he was until his eyes fell on the intricate patterns on the wall at the far end of the room then he realized it was actually his room. To his right a syringe was inserted in his hand, he was on drip. Trying to remember exactly what happened to him the night before, there was a light knock on his door,"Sir, are you awake?" "Come in, Sam." He replied. Sam his personal assistant opened the door slowly and walked into the room. "What happened last night?" Daryl asked. Sam got fidgety at the question, "I'm really sorry we were late Sir. You were drugged last night and the doctor said it was an overdose that's why... why you're in this state right now.""Drugged?" Daryl furrowed his brows waiting for more details."It was... aphrodisiac."At the reply Daryl recalled the events of the night like a bombshell. He recalled looking for an old woman who lived in a small town on the outskirts of the city. He had been informed that she might know something about what had happened to his mother who passed away years ago. The old woman was the only one who could provide the answers he sought. He was in the car with his driver when suddenly some sort of gas permeated the air in the car and his head felt really light, the doors couldn't open either. Daryl ran a hand through his hair clearly irked that he couldn't recall everything clearly. "I was in a dark room?" He asked Sam. "Yes sir." Sam stalled as if contemplating how to put his next words. "Just spill it Sam! What happened there?!" Daryl demanded impatiently. Sam lowered his head, " A lady. There was a lady on the bed too and she didn't look like she was in a good condition. She wore a hospital gown and had bruises, Sir. It's either it was all staged or.." At that, he raised his head to look at Daryl. Daryl already understood the meaning behind his words and he raised his hand to dismiss Sam.He felt disgusted, staged or not he felt disgusted at the thought of him being with a random woman. Angry flames blazed in his eyes, " Incorrigible bastards! you all are going to pay dearly for this." He fumed through gritted teeth. Chelsea watched from her bedroom window as her mother, father, and sister sat outside, enjoying the sunset. It reminded her of when she was 12 and her sister Emma was 10. She sat in the corner of the living room, watching silently as her father and mother played a game with Emma. Smiles and laughter filled the room, and the sound of her family's joy felt like a knife in her heart. She knew that despite being a part of the family, she was never going to be able to join in the fun. And now, a wave of loneliness washed over her as she watched them together, she couldn't help but feel left out. Both her and Emma were artists now but Emma was the famous one albeit not with her own works but with Chelsea's. Chelsea sighed leaving her curtain to draw close and moving away from the window, she stood in front of her mirror. "You have more important things to worry about than this Chelsea." She said to her reflection. "You still have your chance, pass the NAE and your problems are half solved Chelsea." She took a deep breath trying to steady herself but something kept nagging at the back of her head and refused to let her be. She stared at a glass cup on the table thinking,'It would be so nice if I could smash someone's face with this right now.' It's been three months since the incident after her accident but she told no one of the former, it would have been the end of her stay in her father's house. She became a bit more violent after that but no one would ever notice except the servants in the house that attended to her. She corked her head to the side," Who is he?" She asked herself still staring at her reflection. It bugged her that she didn't know who had saved her after she passed out and was just a step away from her grave. Her family arrived at the second hospital she was admitted later than they were expected to, but she knew that would happen. She didn't think they'd bother to see her close to dying body but luckily her saviour had paid her bills and made sure she received treatment. Chelsea shook her head and pushed aside any distractions. Her career test and evaluation was in two days and she wouldn't let anything distract or stop her from scaling it. She turned her back on the mirror and returned to her unfinished painting. Picking up her brush, with her headset on, her hands moved with the fluidity of a well versed artist.

MARRIED TO THE COLD-HEARTED BILLIONAIRE

Chapter 3

Chelsea groaned as her alarm pierced through the air and woke her from her slumber. She felt a rush of anxiety at the thought of taking her Career Test NAE, almost wishing she had never even applied in the first place. Technically speaking, she wouldn't have applied if she didn't need to get off the leash her family put around her. Sitting up in her bed, she saw the long list of tasks she had to do before heading out for the test. There were workers in the Willows mansion and attendants too that could run those errands, but somehow she was always the one assigned to do those things for Emma. Taking a deep breath, she swung her feet over the edge of the bed and forced herself to start her preparation. She wished she could run away again back to staying in a one-room apartment, but things weren't so simple and her mother wouldn't make the same mistake twice and let her 'tarnish the family's reputation.' Although it was only seven o'clock, she had to be ready in two hours, so she quickly put on some matching socks and a comfortable outfit. She grabbed her supplies and strapped on her backpack, then washed off her face and brushed her teeth. Taking out a brush, she tried to tame the knots in her hair before putting it up in a bun. She barely had enough time to apply some lip balm before rushing downstairs.But as soon as she walked into the kitchen, her worst fears were confirmed. Her sister, who was also supposed to participate in the Career Test NAE, was already sitting at the table, with a smug expression on her face. "Oh, I see you got up early to try and do well on the exam," she said sarcastically, "But we both know my parents will always put you second to me." Chelsea sighed and tried her best to ignore her sister's words, reaching for a box of cereal and pouring it into a bowl.She knew her sister was just trying to rile her up before the test, but it was starting to get to her. As if it wasn't already hard enough to prepare for the test with her lack of confidence and a severe case of nerves. She could feel her palms starting to sweat and her heart pounding in her chest as she tried to stay calm. She was confident in her drawing and painting skills but not in the judgment of the judges. Trying to distract herself, she reached for the newspaper and started reading the headlines, determined not to let her sister have the last word. As she ate, her mother came down the stairs slowly all dressed up to attend the NAE and watch their, more like Emma's performance. "Good morning, mother." The sisters greeted at the same time. " Good morning, lovelies." She said walking toward Emma and pecking her on the forehead. "You look beautiful my baby girl." She looked at Chelsea and her smile dimmed. "Chelsea, why are you dressed like that?" She asked, moving her finger up and down and pointing at her attire in disapproval. "Nothing. Mother." Chelsea squeezed out and gathered her things, grabbed a snack, and headed out without waiting for her mother's next words. She didn't have it in her to ride with them to the destination the test was being held that morning. It seemed an arduous journey, as getting there meant she had to take two buses at two different bus stops and trek for a while. But she was determined to reach her destination, so she persevered, even while she felt a bundle of nerves in her stomach. As she got on the last bus which was going to take her to her destination, a young lady held an art magazine featuring Emma's works. Chelsea got even more nervous as she thought of the test and going up against Emma if she made it to the final round. She took deep breaths to calm her nerves."Are you okay?" The young lady asked."Uuh... Yes, yes I am. Just a bit nervous." Chelsea forced a smile.The lady caught a glimpse of the NAE candidate ID around Chelsea's neck and asked, "Is it because of the test?" "What?" "Sorry, I sort of figured it'd be the reason for your nervousness because of the candidate ID you have there." The lady explained so as not to come off as creepy. She smiled, "I'm Vanessa." She said, stretching out a hand for a handshake. "Chelsea. Nice to meet you." Chelsea replied and took the outstretched hand. Vanessa looked at her with kind, cheerful eyes. Her demeanor overall had a calming effect on Chelsea. Chelsea moved slightly in her seat, smiling. "Well, you got it right. I have been a bit of a nervous wreck since yesterday thanks to the test." Vanessa turned to look at her seriously, "Do you know Emma Willow's Monique painting?" "Yes," Chelsea replied unable to understand where the conversation was headed."Are you confident you can pull off something like that?" "Of course, I can." "Can you try to make something better than Monique?"Chelsea hesitated, the said Monique of Emma's was Chelsea's work. Emma was talented as an artist and had the crowd on her side, but more than half of her famous works were Chelsea's. Chelsea smiled, more confident, "I sure can." If she could create Monique then she could do better. As Chelsea arrived at the building the test was being held, she found a long line of fellow candidates outside. The first round of the National Assessment Evaluation career test for artists had begun. Chelsea knew exactly what she had to do: three rounds of tests, each progressively difficult. The first round was for everybody, the second round was for the top five from the first, and the final round was for the best two from the second. The winner of the final round would get a chance to further his or her career abroad and gain popularity too. With a confident smile, Chelsea took her place in the line and prepared to give the test her all. She couldn't help but feel a little bit excited despite the nerves, and her heart raced at the thought of conquering the challenge ahead. Chelsea knew she was fully prepared for the first round, but would need to buckle down and try even harder if she wanted to make it through the other two rounds. During the first round, the candidates were divided into two groups. In a big auditorium, with the judges sitting in front the first batch of candidates stood on stage with their parents and reporters as the audience, while the second batch waited behind the stage. Chelsea was among the second batch she sighed in relief since she didn't have to cross paths yet with Emma who was among the first batch. After a long wait sounds of clapping resounded in the hall. It seemed the first set of candidates were through. Chelsea took a deep breath and readied herself to be on stage. Soon they were called in and took their places in front of a canvas with painting tools provided for them. "You can do this Chelsea." She said to herself and picked up her brush. She shut her eyes and opened them, staring at the blank canvas for a while her hands began to move fluidly with absolute calm. After the first round, five people were finally picked as the best during the first round which included Emma and Chelsea. Chelsea was elated, finally, she was going to get a chance to prove her skill and maybe...just maybe get Emma off her back too. The second round of the test was to be held the very next day. Early in the morning, Daryl the CEO of the multi-tech company strode confidently into the building, his assistants following closely behind him. He wore a bespoke tailored suit. As he stepped into the lobby, he was met with the hushed murmurs of his employees, who had gathered to witness the arrival of their eye-catching leader. He surveyed the lobby and made his way through to the elevator. He nodded at his employees, acknowledging them as he passed by. His assistants followed him, carrying various documents and reports that he would need for the day.